


What are friends for

by kiddypool



Category: Blood Ties (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, douchebaggery is a valid kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6435436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddypool/pseuds/kiddypool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He rolls and get back up. He looks at his pants with disbelief : the belt is unbuckled.<br/>I bark a short laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What are friends for

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed and pretty filthy. the fandom made me do it, eh.

I didn't give him any time to realize what I was about to do.  
We had just solved the latest Nancy Drew mystery and saved an other nobody from an awful gruesome death, or whatever.  
We were just hanging around, winding down with and old bottle of burgundy from my cellar to celebrate, when Vicki decided she needed some shut-eye and left after the first glass.  
So suddenly there we were, Mike and me, alone in my flat.  
His good will, the tenacity of a conscientious cop his only armor against 500 years of inhuman strength, lethal teeth, magic and cunning all wrapped in a thin veneer of manners and princely selfishness.

 

\-----------

 

I move in a flash from the sofa to where he's standing with his drink and shake him up against the wall. Before he realizes what’s happening my mouth connects and my tongue is in for a forceful kiss, sloppy wet, which effectively muffles his surprise.  
For a second there's just the crunch of shattered glass under my soles. Then he reacts.  
He's tearing himself away, eyes wide with shock, with such grand air of offended righteousness, protest and disbelief.

\- what the fuck, Fitzroy !

I let a sliver of predatory amusement float on my lips because monsters don’t care about righteousness, now do they?  
I crouch, telegraphing my next assault. This time he manages to raise his arms in protection. I catch the left wrist easy and rotate to bend the arm backwards. He folds like a good boy, both knees hitting the wooden floor - Ouch, that gotta hurt - but he manages to throw a punch to my ribs with the other fist, which is not bad but... too slow.

Oh I’m going to enjoy this.

It's not long before he evades up again but it's enough for me to grab his tie and loose the knot.  
He's concentrated now, crouched for the next assault, brow furrowed, thin lips.

 

The next instant, I launch him bodily on the bed. He rolls and get back up. He looks at his pants with disbelief : the belt is unbuckled.  
I bark a short laugh. He tries to tuck it back in, but I'm on him relentlessly now, fast clever hands, getting past his defenses, methodic.

I manage to push his vest from his shoulders, immobilizing his arms for a second and while he's getting his balance back, i remove the belt entirely. The vest is next : I raise it like a taunt, away from him, before I throw it across the room. It lands on the TV.

He’s looking at me wide-eyed, adrenaline gave him that extra kick, he's flushed and he's faster.

Well, for a human.

I'm still trying for impassive, but maybe a bit of my utter glee shows through anyway.

Lounge, evade, back and forth. On each pass I pop a button, the left arm of his shirt, 2 at his neck, the top button of his fly. His shirt is rumpled and flopping out of his pants, a bit of flesh starts to show. He's disheveled. I see his cogs turning. I don't think he's understood yet. I see a crease of worry on his forehead. I wink at him before I dive in again.

He’s calculating, wondering: How far is he going to go? Is this petty revenge? What’s the end game? He did glance at the door but he certainly realised there's no way he can reach it, so... not an option.

I feign an other kissing attempt, but instead I go for the hips, unzip his pants and pull them down to his knees in one fluid inhuman move. He stumbles, I catch him and throw him on his belly on the bed again. I jump on him while he tries to roll - predictable - and I sit on his ass. He's conveniently at my mercy that way.  
His breathing is a bit more labored. I take my time to unlace one shoe after the next. Shoes and socks follow the same path to pile up next to the vest.  
He manages to wriggle and get up but his pants are off by one leg now, and he's barefoot.

He looks totally debauched.

How can a guy this tall be this cute and fragile with no shoes? A little part of me feels a tug of protectiveness, casting my wings over him to shield all this cuteness from the big bad world. But I enjoy myself far too much to give in to this impulse.

Next pass I deliberately caress the inside of this thigh, delicately, and when he jumps I'm right there behind him to trap him in a bear hug. I thrust my hips distinctly once to make it crystal clear. Finally, the message goes through because he tenses and swings around with utter shock on his face. There we are, I think he gets it now. Disbelief wars with betrayal on his face.

I answer with a slow smile. I would like to convey predatory and unaffected but my eyes probably crinkle with mischief anyway.

He opens his mouth, most likely to argue about his sexuality or mine, but I m not interested.

I grab him at the waist and throw his 80 kg back on the bed like a rag doll. He lands on his back and I’m on him to finish opening his shirt before he recovers.

We’re in a close quarter now, on the bed, it's going to be more difficult for him to throw square punches. I know he's more of a boxer type but I hope he'll get creative. He's trying to remember his training from the academy, probably, he's fumbling with basic moves, getting into it under the pressure.  
He tries to elbow me in the ribs several times. I push and pull him around trying to pin him down, he grunts. I slow down slightly to let him believe he could hold me. I let him feel the silk of my red shirt, the scratchy wool of my dress pants drag against his skin.  
We roll in the sheets. His basics are not bad, so I’m checking what he can do, i let him take the advantage a little. I open my forearm a little, see if he's going to try an arm bar. He does so before it’s painful i snatch his wrist out of the way and wriggle out of it. I offer my neck for a choke and he dives for it. Doesn’t he know that i don’t need to breathe ? I wonder idly, while I’m gently sliding on my back to evade and getting him in my own triangle choke, threatening to crush his neck between my crossed legs.

I m letting him struggle with it for a while but i leave him enough of an opening to figure out he can wriggle his arm in and get out of it. By the time he manages it, i switch smoothly to a shoulder lock but i let him roll forward head first to disentangle. I wonder if he noticed that I m fooling around? After all, I started jiu jitsu with Sadukazu Uyenishi in 1910. But I guess all he can see for now is the 17 years old playboy. He’s breathing heavy against my shoulder. I throw lock after lock at him, like a patient teacher, and meanwhile I get away with as many intimate caresses as I can: My lips at his neck, fingers dipping in the moist crease of his thigh, passing at the sensitive back of his knee, brushing the straining abs above his navel. He still believes this is a fight. It takes a while, but I’m wearing him down. I m impressed. He’s really fit. He’s straining, but he won’t go down easy and he's clever.

He's getting vicious, desperate, throws several punches in and even a nasty head butt that would have been hard to evade with human reflexes I m sure. He’s so pissed he even considers biting me, I see a rictus and a flash of teeth but he doesn’t want to risk getting to my blood, so he balks.

He's careless now, doesn’t guard properly anymore, reckless, technique forgotten, he's growling, he nearly manages to dislocate my little finger.

I can’t repress a giggle:

\- a finger lock, really ? Are you 12 ??

I rip his underwear from his ass in retaliation, and it ends up dangling on the lamppost while I finally put an end to it, pinning his arms above his head impossibly fast : with both his arms crossed above his head, in the grip of my left hand, and the full weight of my body behind my hand, there isn't much he can do. He's still trying to push me off but it's weaker now. This makes his back a little bit arched, his torso totally exposed.

Yes.

I’m right above him, face to face, I take the time to look into his beautiful stormy blue eyes.

Let his powerlessness sink in a bit.

His throat is not fully offered, hidden behind a defensive chin, but this give me full access to his torso.  
I look at him right in the eye and I smile before I go to town. His sides and his armpits are enjoyably sensitive so he's tensing again, reflex, trying to evade, he’s jerking but it's not coordinated. He definitely doesn’t have the strength anymore. I suck and I bite and I lick until both nipples are red like they’ve been sandpapered. They seem pretty over-sensitized now, a bit more scratching and they could even bleed, I guess? I hesitate surprised my own fantasy. That's not what I was aiming for, but they are tempting, puffed, glistening, like mini red berries ready to be milked. I take the right one in my mouth and I suck fast and hard, not relenting his pleas, just to hurt, but I choose not to break the skin.  
He’s groaning in pain. He's trying to throw me again but there's no strength behind it.

I’m smaller than him but I’m compact and with my weight full on over his crossed arms and sitting on his hips, there's no way in his current state that he could push me straight off. I wait until he gives up and I move to give the same treatment to his other nipple. Must be painful.

He keens, moving his head from right to left like in denial. I hear a litany of Stop Stop Stop Please Henry Why Stop.

I also rock my hips gently against his groin as I keep lapping hard at his abused nipples. I dig my right hand into his armpit mercilessly. I jab at his ribs, scratch my nails on his side. I hear him choke and arch. But I also feel his cock plumping up a little for the first time. He's probably not even conscious of it. I give the right nipple a quick bite and I relish his cry. He seems out of it and there are tears in his blue eyes. I think he's going to beg soon but that's not what I want. I free him and I let him recover a moment.  
He rolls away from me, breath constrained and pained, arms curved protectively around his chest.

I look incredulously at the clock : 1 am ! God, we’ve been fighting for 3 hours. I haven't felt so captivated in a long time.

I'm sitting next to him. I open my pants deliberately, make myself comfortable, and I'm stroking my erection idly.

He must be exhausted. He looks at me wearily but he doesn’t try anything.  
Finally I rise up and swiftly grab under his left shoulder and hip to flip him onto his belly. He tries to crawl out of the bed which is kind of perfect to pin his neck from above, pushing his face into the mattress. He's struggling weakly. With one grip heavy on his neck I slither my other hand between his legs and I take hold of his limp cock and balls, heavy and hot in my palm.

He didn’t see that one coming, he freezes, breath shallow and anxious. He's trying to twist his head under my grip on his neck; he's giving me a glance from the corner of one eye, sweaty blond curls sticking to his forehead. God he’s gorgeous. I squeeze a bit. Just a bit. He bares his teeth. I smile.

\- Spread your legs Celluci. You loose, I win, so why don't you give up and be a nice bitch for me now.

He doesn’t comply so I squeeze again, harder this time. I put a little bit of my inhuman strength into it, I give it a constant squeeze, crushing his balls with his shriveled dick, I count 14 seconds before he relents with a high pitched curse and he does it, overcome with shame.

I free him in order to move behind him, I let my dick slap right along his ass crack, I wrap myself on his back and I slide both hands behind his knees to force him to spread wider. He doesn’t have much flexibility so he's tensing very quickly, he's trying to wriggle out of it but I'm having none of that. I put him back in place : Ass raised against my crotch, on his knees, legs spread wide, head down. I have a beautiful view of all that muscular back, slick with sweat, plus I get to feel his hot ass under my dick, I slide it slowly to let him feel it’s there, until he gathers his energy for one last bout of rebellion but when he finds it in himself to struggle again I simply put my whole weight on his back and he crumbles down the bed. He's grunting and breathing like a forge while I move consistently between his cheeks now, sliding smoothly over him, up and down, up and down. He’s got a great ass, round and supple, enveloping my dick in goodness. He's trying to throw me several times again, but there's less and less conviction into it. I feel his sweat on my dick. My shirt is completely ruined. i lick the beads of sweat gathering at the nape of his neck. i really like this neck. I definitely enjoy him bowing before me. I nibble at it and nudge his thighs apart some more. Every time i force his thighs open, he close them back again, so I switch to use my legs, my hands, and every time he tries to close again, to evade me. I slap him on the rump several times like a mock punishment. It has a ringing quality in the silence. I like that a lot, fast and hard slaps. Maybe a bit too much because his ass is pretty red now, it looks tenderized, blood raised at the surface.

Finally he stops moving, ribcage heaving. His hair is matted over his forehead, the blond curls now nearly black with sweat. He's beautiful like a bull at the end of the corrida, several banderillas in the neck, blood running, head down, completely focusing on his matador. I think now even Vicki is not in the picture anymore. Only me.

I want him to know what's coming. So I take my time, I sit down, I reach ostentatiously for the bottle in the drawer, open the cap with a loud clack and slosh too much oil right into his crack. He shivers. I’m fumbling the oil around, making him glistening all over with my fingertips. I scratch my nails on his tenderized ass. I pinch and I prod around aimlessly. Finally I put my index finger on his hole and I let it rest here, slight pressure but not going in. He's using the last dregs of his energy to close his legs one last time so I spread his thighs wide open again. His own cock must be scraping against the sheets. I push at his knees to the largest possible angle, until it's really uncomfortable; I let him feel my strength for a while. Then I put my knees on each leg pinning him down wide open. He doesn’t dare move. I blow cold air on his hole just to watch it flutter. I put my finger on it again and let it rest there spreading the oil without entering. And it happens all of a sudden: I can see the fight going out of him. He's finally giving up, each muscle of his back relaxing into acceptance. It's like his whole body sinks down into the mattress a bit more. There’s a small desperate sound coming muffled from his face in the cushions.

\- Are you going to cry, Cellucci? I breathe in his ear, honestly curious.  
\- This is rape, Fitzroy, and you damn well know it.  
\- Maybe you should call the police, I reply sleazily while making slow circles with my finger (yeah well I couldn’t help that one) and now I'm dipping one knuckle in. I can hear his answering huff in the mattress. I pass the defense of his hole then I remove my finger. I can see his anus closing and tensing but not for long, when it relents I plunge back in just to let him feel it open again, and again, and again. Each time I breach him I let him feel his ring of muscles getting stretched, massaged, giving way, opening for me. I let him feel himself getting used to it. Until he doesn’t tense up and close anymore when I remove my finger. I want him to know that I won the right to get in, to use him. I push as much oil as possible inside with each new mini penetration. I want him to know how good it will be to surrender.  
I’ve pushed my finger inside and now I’m moving it slowly in and out. I’m having so much fun It takes me an eternity to finally slide 3 fingers in. I’m brushing his prostate on occasion, like it's not on purpose, glancing over, a tease.

\- I should take pictures, you're glistening like a whore, its' obscene.

I can see he wants to hump the mattress. He trembles, aborted movements of pleasure, he had to stop himself several times already to rock back into my fingers, but he definitely doesn’t try to close up anymore. I bet his dick is straining and red under him now, his nipples a torture on the sheets. I suddenly have this idea of putting his cock on lock down and lashing out like crazy on his prostate and milk it till he’s crying and begging for mercy. He looks so primed maybe I could use the voice alone to make him spill. Instead I just stop, three fingers stretching him wide and not moving.

\- Do you want my dick?

He twists his head back to me, like he's coming back from very far away, focusing on me.  
\- You’re raping me, Fitzroy, I said no, so why ask for permission ?  
\- Nope. Not going to rape you.

  
I let that sink in.

  
\- You’ve been after me since Mendoza, Detective. You thought you could hide that from me ? You got a serious kick when I forced you down. I drained your blood, and that changed things between us. Now you want it bad. But this doesn't match with the way you see yourself. You're supposed to be the reasonable one, the protector, so you hate this part of you, it's foreign, so you can’t acknowledge it, least of all ask. I’m giving you your wildest dream. And, wow! Aren’t you enjoying yourself, huh? You're bathing in your slick, Celluci. You're so excited you've drenched my sheets. It smells like a whorehouse down there. So you have a choice, Mike : Deny yourself some more, tell me no, i'll let you go home, and you will never know how this could be.

Or.

Give me your consent.

  
I slide my fingers out, he’s relaxed and gaping a little now. So ready, stretched tender and open. I drape myself over him delicately, without crushing him, I let him feel my cock trail between his cheeks, on his perineum, brushing his balls. The head drags and catches on his hole but I don’t sink in, just waiting.  
He's breathing faster, suddenly shifting, and raises his ass without a word. God, he's pushing his ass up like he s trying to catch my cockhead now, trying to impale himself. It's going to slide right in.

My throat is suddenly dry.

I meet him halfway and I push gently the head in. I know he can't say it, he's not going to say it, but he is actively impaling himself back on my cock, that counts as consent, right? And he does push back, hungrily. Christ. I feel him sheathing my dick inch by inch, clumsily, backwards. He kept his thighs wide open, a message, a display of obedience. I reward him with a move of my hips. 

\- There you go, baby, yes, yes. You're beautiful on my dick.

He whines. God, this guy ! I’m sizing his hips and I start thrusting in. He's hot and compliant and there's oil everywhere. I have to concentrate a bit, because it's too good. I’m gripping just on the side of too strong, there's going to be 2 handprints on his hips tomorrow morning.

I pound away faster and faster, he's so wound up he's already close to shoot so I have to snake a hand down his belly to stop it. His balls are all drowned up, I delicately push them back down, traps them in the ring of my fingers, pull gently. This earns me other superb whine. I smile with all my teeth. I find a rhythm, fast then slow then fast again. He's moving with me now, he's like a violin, he gave up so completely. I’m never going to get enough of this. So I go on and on, helping myself to the feast. Don't I deserve it after so much effort?

\- will you let me fuck you again ?

he shivers.

\- I want to booty call you whenever i feel like it. I’ll bend you on my couch. I'll take you after work, in the back of your cop car…

He's making small desperate noises.

\- Will you let me take you at the station ? I blurt out. I'll make you come in the interrogation room, and then I'll erase the memory from the entire squad.

He moans.

I know my eyes are black now and my teeth are out. I know I’m using the voice next when I growl : _ **\- Mike, will you let me...**_

He’s wracked with a full body shudder. Shame is coming off of him in waves. And he shouts in the pillow - yes, yes dammit do it!

So I sit back up on my knees and I raise him up from the bed with me. I press his back to my chest. He's limp in my hold, abandoned. I impale him on my dick that way up and down some more, like a puppet, like he weights nothing. He's making the best sounds, god, he's completely out of it. I’ve got to stop talking or I'm going to say something stupid.

Instead I tuck my nose under his ear, where the pulse is strong, I can see the artery pumping infrared below the skin. I look down at his dick and I see it's full of blood too, straight ahead in the air, bouncing right and left with every move. It's obscene. I find his prostate and I start to work at it with small moves, faster and faster not too hard but unrelenting. He rolls his head back, tensing, neck offered, lost to the pleasure, his neck is getting irresistible. His breath is shallow now, he knows it's coming, it's ineluctable, he's tensing in search for it. He's giving me small helpless cries with each move now, up and up, impossibly high.

I’m pushing him further, guiding him to the precipice. I sense his heart skipping a beat before he realizes himself that he's coming, and I bite down right there, hard and deep. He's splashing in my mouth right as he's spurting on my sheets, Oh, oh, oh, he cries, all muscles tensing then going completely slack suddenly.  
I milk the last spasms out of him, gently, while I get to gorge on his hot irresistible life force, freely given.

It's all slow now, I’m in the middle of lapping lazily at his would, my arms around his limp body, when I feel the blackness. I recognize - too late - the sudden grip of down coming to claim my sleep and my consciousness : it's like a hammer behind my neck. I have hardly enough time to think : How did i let this happen ?! Before i black out : I shut down like a switch.

I wake up with cracked blood in my mouth. I feel filthy. My best red silk shirt is ripped apart, buttons missing, and I'm obviously covered in blood and sperm. Wow.

There's a heartbeat next to me : mike is still asleep, he must have slept 12 hours straight and apparently, he's smelling even worse than I do.

Then i hear it.

The other heartbeat.

I roll and crouch to face the threat in one smooth move, teeth bared.

Hum.

Oh.

  
Vicki is looking at me, expression slightly pinched.

I frown apologetically. Lock the scary teeth back in.

\- Yep, Henry. See, I was worried, Mike didn’t answer his phone all day, so I came here and picked your lock. And now.. I can only ponder philosophically at my life choices ? Sometimes, I honestly wish I were already blind. She taps her glasses with her index.

I drop back on the bed, relaxed on my elbows. I realize I m naked and she didn’t even bat an eye. I show off my abs for a second. Am I ashamed ? Not really.

I look at her and I wonder, what would it take for her join us next time ?

I have that fleeting view of Vicki in a strap-on above Mike and Oh. OH. I smile wide.

What can I say.

My smile is my best feature.


End file.
